The moon hung high in the dark sky, a silver coin amidst a breathtaking tapestry of shimmering stars. It was midnight in Tokyo, a city hushed in slumber where every house light was extinguished. Every light, that is, except one.
"Ahhhh, not agaaaiiinn!"
A book sailed through the air and thudded against the wall in a fit of frustration. Yukino slammed her fist onto her desk with all her might, scattering pens and papers.
"What is it with every villainess being secretly good and falling in love over and over and over again? It has reached the point where I don't even want to read another villainess novel!"
She shouted at the empty room before punching the table once more for emphasis. Defeated, she buried her head in her arms, her voice dropping to a disheartened whisper.
"I don't wanna read anymore. I'm tired of the same trope happening again and again."
Yukino had been a devoted fan of villainess novels, series, and games since she was eleven. She had once reveled in them, but as she grew older, a deep-seated frustration took root. The trope had become stale: a modern woman dies and is reborn as the villainess in a novel or game. Instead of embracing the role, she immediately starts doing good deeds, somehow flips the entire script so the original heroine becomes the antagonist, and inevitably falls for the male lead who was never meant for her.
After years of consumption, it all felt like slop to her. She craved a story where the villainess was actually, unapologetically bad, a character who didn't fall for the male lead and remained a true, formidable bitch.
"If I ever got the chance to be reincarnated as a villainess," she muttered into the crook of her arm, "I promise myself that I won't be like the others."
Her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted into an uneasy sleep, the lonely light of her room a solitary beacon in Tokyo's encompassing darkness.
---
Yukino stirred, consciousness returning to the sound of a soft, calm voice. She slowly opened her eyes, her vision a bleary, unfocused haze. As her senses sharpened, the voice became clear.
"Princess, it is already morning."
A maid stood by the bedside. She had long black hair, eyes as beautiful and clear as gemstones, and wore a traditional maid's dress.
...What? Princess? Yukino thought, confusion washing over her.
"Where am I?"
She looked around and realized she was not in her modest room. Instead, she lay in a luxurious, king-sized bed with crimson sheets, in a chamber at least three times the size of her old apartment.
Her gaze settled on the maid, who offered a polite, practiced smile. The woman was mature and noticeably older than Yukino.
"Princess, I have brought your breakfast to your room, as you ordered last night," the maid said, gesturing to a covered tray on a nearby table. She continued, "Now, if you will excuse me, I must prepare the dining hall for His and Her Highness, your parents."
The maid bowed deeply at the waist, straightened, and glided silently out of the room, leaving Yukino alone with her whirling thoughts.
Yukino stared at the closed door, her mind reeling. She clenched her teeth, biting back the urge to scream. She took a deep, shuddering breath, held it, and let it out slowly. She repeated the process several times until the initial wave of panic subsided.
Where am I? she thought again, this time with forced calm.
Looks like I have been reincarnated. Or is it transmigrated? I don't even know the difference after all these years of reading fantasy. She assessed her surroundings. But one thing is clear. I am not in my world anymore.
Her eyes scanned the opulent room until they landed on a full-length mirror beside an ornate closet. She froze. The reflection was not her own. Her entire body, face, and appearance had completely changed.
She now possessed long, dark purple hair so deep it was nearly black, and captivating eyes the color of red gemstones. Her skin was flawlessly pale and beautiful, without a single blemish. Her figure was slender with a defined waist, and her bust, while not excessively large, was certainly more generous than before. She was dressed in an exquisite, undoubtedly expensive black nightgown.
"Is this… me?"
Tentatively, she raised her right hand and brought it to her face, her fingertips brushing her cheek. Her skin was impossibly soft, like the finest cotton.
"I… I can't believe I could ever look this beautiful."
The shock was not from finding herself in another reality, but from the breathtaking beauty of her new form. It was a beauty she had never dared to imagine for herself.
She traced her lips with her index and middle fingers; they were just as soft.
Suddenly, a searing, violent pain exploded in her skull. It felt as if a hammer were slamming repeatedly against her temples. The veins in her neck and forehead bulged and twitched, visible tracings of blood rushing at a frantic pace. The pain intensified to an unbearable degree, a pressure threatening to shatter her head from within.
She let out a piercing, agonized scream as her world shattered into fragments of light and memory. A torrent of foreign experiences, emotions, and knowledge the memories of this body's original owner flooded into her mind, drowning her own consciousness.
"AAAHHHHHHHHH!"
Several minutes passed. Yukino's face was drenched in sweat, droplets falling from her chin onto the black fabric of her dress. She panted heavily, her heart hammering against her ribs as if it had been run through with a sword.
A few more minutes crept by. Gradually, the storm within her subsided. Her heartbeat slowed to a steady rhythm. The sweat cooled on her skin. An unnatural calm settled over her features, her breathing becoming slow and measured.
The frantic, modern personality of Yukino had been submerged, seamlessly replaced by the poised, calculating demeanor of the body's original owner. Yet, a core consciousness remained in control. She had not been erased; she had been… integrated.
A small, cold smile spread across her perfect lips. A soft, knowing laugh escaped her.
"By the looks of it," she thought, her new mind analyzing the flood of memories with crystalline clarity, "I have been reincarnated into the very novel I was reading. And I have become the villainess, Aurora."
Her gem-red eyes, now calm and perceptive, held a depth of understanding that seemed to see through the very fabric of this world.
"Things have just become interesting," she whispered to the luxurious silence. "I got my wish. I am the villainess. And now," her smile widened, a promise of elegant malice, "I will be the villainess I always wanted to read about."