Chapter 1

──Apparently, I’m a genius.

The inherited technique I received from Father wasn’t the one most expected of me, but it was intuitive and easy to use. Father even praised me, saying I had a natural sense for it.

──Everyone says so. That if only I had been born a man, I would have succeeded Father as the next head without complaint.

This house is ruled by extreme meritocracy and equally extreme male chauvinism. As long as I am still young and have yet to prove my strength, the voices pushing my uncles or brothers as the next head will never cease. Perhaps not even if I do prove myself.

──There’s apparently a failure in the Zen’in family.

──A man with not even a millimeter of cursed energy.

──What kind of pathetic wretch could he be?

──What kind of miserable face must he have?

It was a pitiful sort of curiosity, meant to comfort myself. I am looked down upon simply for being a woman. That person is looked down upon for having no cursed energy at all. Perhaps seeing someone like me—another outcast—would soothe my wounded pride.

What stood there… no, what existed there… was utter emptiness, stripped of everything.

A failure with no cursed energy? Who was the idiot who started that rumor?

Just as a beast sheds excess fat to run faster. Just as a bird discards everything unnecessary to fly. Just as a snake has no legs or sharp eyesight, and a fish has no function beyond swimming—

He has no need for something superfluous like cursed energy. Because with that body alone, he possesses violence so overwhelming he could slaughter everyone in this house and still have strength to spare.

"What do you want?"

It wasn’t killing intent. He didn’t even grant me that much interest. What I felt was something simpler—a primal fear, standing before a monster who could toy with my life at a whim.

Death.

He merely spoke, and yet I felt it—thick, suffocating. If he were to indulge the slightest impulse. If he exerted the trivial effort of swallowing a food he disliked. I understood that he could kill me with ease—

──In that instant, memories that had never existed overflowed into my mind.

‘And then you died?’ ‘You’re wide open.’ ‘Same face, same tits.’ ‘Do you not have a human heart?’ ‘Fast as lightning.’ ‘Don’t screw with me. I can’t knead cursed energy, you sewer-trash.’

This body… no, the future I would have had if I were male. The existence of the man Zen’in Naoya was meant to be. The end of a man who longed for overwhelming strength. The fate of a villain in the story Jujutsu Kaisen.

There was something in the original about whether the soul precedes the body or the body precedes the soul. But I am Zen’in Naoya, and Zen’in Naoya is me. Even if the container changes slightly, the existence itself does not. Whether a present box contains trash or is empty, until it is opened, it is still a present box.

So this was inevitable. Having become the one who idolized the man called Zen’in Toji, if I were to meet him, it was fate that things would turn out this way.

"I’ve fallen for you. Love at first sight. Please marry me."

"Hah?"

Even the dumbfounded look on his face when he didn’t understand was handsome…

Even if you were to be reborn into a story, if you had the choice, you would absolutely never pick this one. That’s Jujutsu Kaisen in a nutshell.

Even major characters die without mercy. Losing limbs is standard. Psychological torment is fully stocked. For background characters, leaving behind a corpse is considered lucky. Few would wish to be born into such a world.

Among them, the Zen’in family is the worst. It’s not about male chauvinism or meritocracy. If it were only that, then at least reincarnating as Zen’in Naoya wouldn’t be a prob—…actually, why am I a woman? That’s a problem.

No, that’s not it. The issue is that the Zen’in family gets slaughtered in the story. As fodder for a major character’s awakening event. And Zen’in Naoya is the final stepping stone—the impressive supporting villain who gets cut down to highlight that character. Put less kindly, a sacrificial jobber. Is this what they call a “stepping-stone reincarnator”?

Anyway. Knowing that future, I should be struggling to survive using the knowledge in my head. And yet what I’m actually doing is—

"Hey, hey, Toji-kun. Instead of those horses, why not play with me?"

"Shut up. I’m busy trying to make more money."

Trying to catch the attention of the Heavenly Tyrant.

"You’re gonna lose anyway. I’ve never seen you win."

"...This time’s different. It’s a rock-solid favorite."

"Then let’s bet too. If the horse I pick wins… hmm, how about you train me?"

"And if I win?"

"I’ll ask Dad to buy you whatever meat you want. Anything."

"Deal. Set whatever binding vow you like."

I smirked inwardly. Using knowledge from a past life as a cheat isn’t that simple. I can barely remember what I had for dinner a week ago—how accurately could I recall memories from a past life? But when it comes to something I’m interested in, that’s another matter.

"Then I’ll go with Admire Vega."

"You’ve got no eye for this. Narita’s obviously taking it."

Thank you as always, Cygames, Uma Musume. Sitting comfortably on Zen’in Toji’s lap, I watched the horse race broadcast with that thought in mind.

Sorcerers reinforce their bodies with cursed energy to fight. Conversely, someone without cursed energy can only rely on their raw physical abilities. And yet—

"How’re you faster than me when I’m using my technique?! That’s not fair!"

"You’re just slow."

Projection Sorcery. Create a movement in one twenty-fourth of a second, then trace it. You can’t defy physics too much, but you can ignore physical limitations to an extent. Stack it repeatedly, and you can essentially surpass human limits.

And yet the tyrant before me caught up to my accelerated self and effortlessly disrupted my motion. The result: a one-second freeze from a failed activation of Projection Sorcery.

"...Your startup’s too slow. Even if you don’t have a cap, if I read you at the beginning, it’s over."

"Was that… advice? Since when are you that considerate, Toji-kun?"

"Want me to deck you?"

"Spare me. My cute face’ll get all messed up."

Still, he wasn’t wrong. A physical prodigy could probably read my next move just from my first step. And with Projection Sorcery’s nature of predefining movement, if that first motion gets read, it’s finished.

──What we’re doing now is a simple children’s game: tag. The only difference is that both of us are nearly approaching supersonic speeds.

And yet I haven’t managed to touch him even once. As Toji-kun said, my body usage must be flawed. My speed has no upper limit. His is capped at the limits of the human body. If I’m still losing, then it’s purely a matter of skill.

"Again!"

"Until I get bored."

This won’t do. At the very least, I need to gain enough ability to defeat a physical prodigy. Otherwise, when that scene comes, all I’ll manage is croaking out, ‘Sewer trash… damn you…!’ before dying. Of course, the best strategy is to avoid earning anyone’s hatred in the first place, but Uncle Ogi is… well…

And there’s another reason. Normally that first one would be more important, but for me right now—for ‘Zen’in Naoya’—this one outweighs it.

──If I never improve, Toji-kun will get bored of me…!

The thought is more terrifying than my own death. …I’m probably being pulled along by ‘Zen’in Naoya.’ I don’t think I ever had this kind of passion or craving.

My goal is to reach that side… though I doubt I could ever become a sorcerer strong enough to beat Gojo Satoru. At the very least, I want to be strong enough to cling to Toji-kun.

"Watch my eyes. Don’t telegraph your move, idiot."

"I can’t help it! That’s how my technique works!"

At this rate, I can’t even step on his shadow. Maybe I should start with the basics—karate, in other words, strengthening my body. If I asked the captain of the Kukuru Unit, would he train me? …But ‘Zen’in Naoya’ was ridiculously hated… and add male chauvinism on top of that, even as the head’s daughter I’d probably get treated horribly. So maybe instead—

"Hey, Toji-kun."

"What?"

"Wanna make me your bride?"

"Come back when you don’t smell like piss, idiot."

"That’s a low blow!!"

I’ll definitely get stronger… and prettier too… and then I’ll make Toji-kun regret that…! ‘Zen’in Naoya’s’ soul is screaming. Wait, weren’t you originally a guy? But I’m also me, so maybe it can’t be helped…? The boundary there is vague. Did ‘Zen’in Naoya’ originally have those tendencies? Or is this because of me, the foreign element? Either is possible. That’s all.

In the end, I never once managed to win at tag. But I did at least secure a promise: if I won the next bet too, he’d train me.