JJK: I am the real villain

In his innate domain, Zankei sat on his skull throne, hand resting on his cheek, his gaze distant, lost in thought.

Arata floated through the air, laughing loudly as he flew around the eerie-looking domain inside Zankei's mind.

Zankei raised his hand, halting Arata's movement midair before letting him fall to the ground. A bored expression rested on Zankei's face.

"Ouch!!!" Arata rubbed his back. "That was such a non-issue, why'd you do that?" he grumbled.

"How'd you learn to do that, you brat?" Zankei asked, genuinely curious about how Arata was floating in his innate domain.

"I don't know. Boredom, I guess?" Arata dusted himself off, his school uniform still crisp and clean. "And you're... off. I don't know how to explain it, but you're different."

"Different? What do you mean?"

"I don't know you at all, and our time together has been brief, but based on first impressions, you're an edgy asshole whose arrogance is literally visible in your mannerisms," Arata said, continuing.

"What I find weird about you right now is that you're regretting... or disappointed?" Arata trailed off.

"I don't know, man. Forget I said anything," he dismissed the thought.

Zankei looked at his palm, a regretful feeling washing over him.

"Disappointed... regretful? Perhaps. You see, I've always carried the weight of disappointment in myself.

Every victory, every loss, it's all added up to who I am today. The same can be said about everyone else," Zankei said, revealing his swirling inner dissonance.

"I hate myself for being weak. Nothing compares to the thought of being capable but falling short.

I had dismissed this era as a fleeting phase of the very Jujutsu I had built my life upon, but I was wrong."

Arata went quiet, seeing a rare glint of peace in Zankei's eyes.

"I have been very wrong... and I appreciate the man who reminded me of that."

"So... you're giving up?" Arata's voice turned deeper, his eyes now menacing with venom, an abstract shift from the personality he'd shown before.

Arata's mind flashed back to his own failures. Failures that far outweighed the successes he'd managed.

A decent student, aiming for an average job, to live an average life...

But life had other plans. He'd given up on the traditional route to success and instead clung to life's breadcrumbs of opportunity. Painfully average.

Then he remembered a friend, his image clear in Arata's mind: black hair draped over one side of his face, dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you who you say you are, Zankei Kubigari? Or are you just more talk than action?"

Zankei didn't reply. He knew that his past actions held no weight against the promises he'd made. But one thing was certain:

When he set his mind to something, he would die to accomplish it.

And if he couldn't... he had no right to the curse bestowed upon him.

A beastly smile crept onto Zankei's face.

"Now you're starting to make sense."

He hopped down from his throne, landing before Arata, who stood with confidence, though a bead of sweat slid down the side of his head.

"We're the same in more ways than not, we hate the idea of being average, weak, and hopeless..."

Arata's knees buckled slightly, and Zankei placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I now understand that this generation of sorcerers might be more competent than mine. That said, our cooperation will take longer than expected," Zankei said.

"Take all the time you need. In exchange, I get to be taught what this Jujutsu is," Arata proposed.

"What is this?" Zankei mocked. "Jujutsu, this late in your years? Forget it. I have other things to worry about."

"I haven't mentioned it yet, but my body's been adapting, to accommodate the foreign object that is you. So, eventually, you'll struggle to keep control over me."

Zankei narrowed his golden eyes, studying Arata.

"With that said, there will come a time when I'll take back control of this body involuntarily, and I'll have to protect myself from whatever's out there."

"…"

The silence was heavy. Zankei's hands remained tucked in his yukata sleeves before he finally sighed.

"Fine then. But don't expect full-time training."

"Alright!!" Arata pumped his fist into the air in excitement.

---

Elsewhere, in a theater, four students were found dead, their bodies disfigured into monstrous forms.

The cause of death had to do with severe interference in their brain's nervous systems over time, meaning they had remained alive for a short period before their inevitable deaths.

A boy with side bangs covering his left eye walked into an alleyway before calling out to a figure walking in slow, measured steps.

"You… Were you the one who did that?" the boy asked, referring to the disfigured bodies in the theater.

The figure turned, looking at the boy with a smile that masked cruel intent. The stitches on his face and his pale skin gave the boy goosebumps.

"Ah, you can see me?"

The boy nodded, his breath catching in his throat.

"Why don't we have a chat...?" the mysterious figure offered. The boy hesitated, it was unnerving, dangerous even, to follow this unknown person.

"...Alright."

---

At the theater, police had cordoned off the area with tape. Yuki Itadori and a blond-haired man with a disciplined, indifferent look walked into the building.

"Yuji?"

"Yes!" Itadori answered the man.

"I'll be here to offer you basic knowledge and guidance on how we approach Jujutsu investigations. Got it?" the blond man said in a monotonous voice.

"Ah, yes, sir!" Yuji gave a salute. "But, Nanami-san, I already have basic knowledge in Jujutsu..."

"No, you don't. Tell me, where did the culprit exit from?"

"Yeah, he..." Yuji trailed off, guessing. "Right there!" He pointed at an open door. Nanami sighed.

"You're wrong."

Yuji scratched his head, clueless.

"I'll explain, so pay attention. First, cursed energy always leaves a byproduct when a technique is used. These are called residuals," Nanami explained, pointing at the floor just past the deceased bodies.

"What? I can't see it!" Yuji complained.

"Look harder," Nanami said flatly.

Yuji cupped his hands over his eyes to focus. His vision adjusted, he could now register the cursed energy, which appeared like footprints on the floor.

"Ah! I see it!!!" Yuji exclaimed.

Nanami walked past him, adjusting his tie.

"We have a lot on our hands to deal with."

Yuji didn't fully understand, but he knew Nanami was a seasoned veteran in this field.

And when Nanami said something dangerous was brewing—he meant it.