Kuoh Academy looked like something out of a tourism brochure.
Cherry blossoms lined the walkway. Students in pristine uniforms laughed and chatted in clusters. The buildings rose in elegant European architecture that had no business existing in rural Japan but somehow made perfect sense.
I adjusted my borrowed uniform and tried not to feel like an imposter.
"You'll be fine," Rias said, walking beside me with the confidence of someone who'd owned this place since freshman year. "The cover story is simple. Transfer student from abroad. Your Japanese is excellent because your mother was Japanese."
The mention of my mother hit harder than it should have. But I kept my expression neutral.
"And if someone asks too many questions?"
"Redirect. Evade. If necessary, I'll handle it." Her smile carried an edge of amusement. "Being the most popular girl in school has its advantages."
Popular was an understatement. Every student we passed either bowed, waved, or stared with naked admiration. Rias acknowledged each one with practiced grace, a princess among commoners.
I was just the strange new guy walking beside her.
The Fragment stirred, amused.
"The attention will increase once you're enrolled. Proximity to power draws eyes."
Thanks for the warning.
Asia's first day was going better than anyone expected.
I found her at lunch, surrounded by a crowd of girls who'd apparently decided she was the most precious thing they'd ever seen. Which, fair. With her blonde hair, green eyes, and earnest expression, she looked like an angel who'd wandered into the wrong building.
"And then the priest said I couldn't help anymore," Asia was saying, her voice carrying that particular brand of innocent sincerity that made people want to protect her. "So I traveled to Japan to find a new purpose. And I found these wonderful people!"
She gestured toward where Koneko sat, methodically eating lunch and ignoring the attention.
"...too loud," Koneko muttered.
"She's so cute!" one of the girls squealed.
Asia beamed. "Thank you! You're very cute too!"
The girl practically melted.
I watched from across the rooftop where the peerage had gathered for lunch. Kiba sat beside me, his own crowd of admirers kept at bay by his polite but firm detachment.
"She's adapting well," he observed.
"She's terrifying."
Kiba raised an eyebrow.
"In a good way," I clarified. "She survived torture, extraction, death, and resurrection. And now she's making friends like nothing happened. That's either incredible resilience or complete denial."
"Perhaps both." Kiba's smile was knowing. "Trauma processes differently for everyone. Some people break. Some people... refract."
I thought about that. About the static where my mother's voice should be. About the way grief had become something I carried rather than something that carried me.
Maybe refraction was the right word.
The Perverted Trio found me after lunch.
Three boys with matching grins and the kind of energy that suggested they'd never met a boundary they couldn't ignore. I recognized the type from my old life. The guys who thought persistence was the same as charm.
"Hey, new guy!" The leader, a scruffy kid with glasses, planted himself in my path. "We noticed you hanging around Rias-sama."
"Observant."
"And the new blonde girl. Asia-chan." His grin widened. "You're collecting them."
I stared at him.
"We could use someone with your... access." The second one leaned in conspiratorially. "Think about it. Information. Schedules. Maybe a few photos - "
"No."
The word came out flat. Final. The kind of no that didn't invite negotiation.
The third one frowned. "Come on, we're just - "
"You're just leaving. Now."
Something in my voice must have carried weight, because all three took an involuntary step back. The leader's grin faltered.
"Jeez, fine. No need to be scary about it."
They retreated, muttering about stuck-up transfer students.
The Fragment hummed.
"Efficient. Though violence would have been more memorable."
I'm not hitting teenagers for being creepy.
"Pity. The tall one's fear response was amusing."
Koneko found me after the Perverted Trio incident.
She appeared beside me without warning, holding a wrapped chocolate bar. The same brand she'd given me before. Becoming something of a tradition.
"...heard about the idiots."
"News travels fast."
"...Kuoh is small." She pressed the chocolate into my hand. "Good job. They bother everyone."
I unwrapped the bar and broke off a piece. Offered half to her.
She took it without comment. We ate in companionable silence.
"Asia is adjusting," she said eventually.
"I noticed."
"...you're not."
I looked at her. At those golden eyes that saw too much.
"I'm fine."
"...liar." But she said it gently. "Rias worries. Akeno watches. Kiba asks questions." A pause. "I share chocolate."
"Is that your version of therapy?"
"...chocolate fixes everything."
I couldn't argue with that logic.
Kiba caught me after the final bell.
He carried a stack of books that looked like they weighed more than Koneko. Combat theory, martial arts philosophy, tactical analysis. The kind of reading that would put most people to sleep but made my Fragment-enhanced brain light up with interest.
"For you," he said, setting them on a nearby desk. "The basics of supernatural combat. Rias mentioned you prefer reading to lecture."
"She's not wrong."
"Few people are." Kiba's smile was warm but contained, the perfect knight's expression. "These cover fundamentals. Positioning, power assessment, threat prioritization. Things you've been learning through experience but benefit from formal study."
I picked up the top book. "Tactical Considerations for Multi-Species Combat" by someone with too many titles after their name.
"Light reading?"
"The author was a general in the Great War. His insights remain relevant." Kiba paused. "If you have questions, I'm available. Training is valuable, but understanding why you train is equally important."
"Thanks, Kiba."
He nodded and left, moving with that perfect grace that made everything look effortless.
The Fragment catalogued the books.
"Useful. Knowledge supplements power. Though practical application remains superior to theoretical understanding."
Can't I have both?
"You can. Few hosts bother."
Akeno intercepted me on the way back to the ORC building.
"Ara ara." Her smile carried its usual edge of danger. "The new student attracts attention. I've heard whispers."
"Good whispers or bad whispers?"
"Interesting whispers." She fell into step beside me, her movements fluid and predatory. "The girls think you're mysterious. The boys think you're competition. The teachers think you're surprisingly well-prepared."
"I had a good education."
"Mmm." Her eyes glittered. "You had something. Rias hasn't said what, but I have theories."
I kept my expression neutral. "Theories?"
"You fight too well for someone newly reincarnated. You adapt too quickly. You know things you shouldn't." She leaned closer, her perfume something dark and floral. "And you don't flinch when I get close. Most people find me... overwhelming."
"Maybe I'm not most people."
"Clearly." Her smile widened. "Don't worry. I won't pry. Secrets make life interesting." A pause. "But if you ever want to share, I'm an excellent listener."
"I'll keep that in mind."
She laughed, bright and sharp, and drifted away toward the shrine she maintained on the school grounds.
The Fragment observed her departure.
"The thunder-priestess is perceptive. And dangerous. Handle her carefully."
I'm handling everyone carefully.
"Yes. You're learning.
The Fragment chose that evening to provide a lesson I didn't ask for.
I sat in the ORC's main room, one of Kiba's books open on my lap, when the system display flickered to life unbidden.
[ECHO STATUS REPORT]
[CURRENT LEVEL: 12%]
[THRESHOLDS]
0-15%: Negligible. Small preferences, minor habits.
15-30%: Noticeable. Behavioral changes become visible.
30-50%: Intrusive. Conflicting impulses. Difficulty distinguishing self from Echo.
50%+: Critical. Echoes seek dominance. Integration or suppression required.
[FRAGMENT ASSESSMENT]
"You're safe for now. But every copy adds more."
"The mother's voice added 2%. The combat instincts from the fallen added 1%."
"Choose your acquisitions carefully."
I stared at the display.
You could have mentioned this earlier.
"You were grieving. Information would have been noise." The Fragment's tone was almost gentle. "But you're past the immediate crisis. Understanding your limits is now relevant."
12% is safe?
"For now. The influences are minor. Small preferences. Subtle habits. Nothing that threatens your core identity."
I thought about the organizing. The way I'd arranged books and papers with military precision. Kiba's influence, bleeding through.
What else?
"You'll notice patterns. Behaviors that don't quite match your history. Preferences you can't explain. Each Echo leaves traces. The question is whether you recognize them before they become you."
That's not comforting.
"Truth rarely is."
Training that afternoon focused on refinement rather than acquisition.
Rias had declared a moratorium on new abilities. "You have enough tools," she'd said. "Learn to use them properly before adding more."
The Fragment didn't argue. Which probably meant it agreed.
So I spent two hours practicing Light Lance throws until my arms ached and my palms burned. Stealth Mode activations until I could slip in and out of visibility without conscious thought. Flight maneuvers until the air felt like a second home.
Asia watched from the sidelines, her healing glow ready for any injuries.
"You're so cool," she said when I landed after a particularly complex aerial sequence. "I can't do any of that."
"You heal people. That's cooler."
"It doesn't feel cool." She held up her hands, green light flickering around her fingers. "It just feels... normal. Like breathing."
"Maybe that's what makes it impressive."
Her smile brightened. "You think so?"
"I know so."
She immediately rushed toward Koneko, who'd scraped her elbow during her own training. "Let me help!"
"...still tickles," Koneko muttered.
But she didn't move away.
Evening found the peerage scattered around the ORC building's main room.
Kiba practiced forms in the corner, his movements precise and flowing. Koneko napped in a sunbeam, her breathing slow and peaceful. Akeno prepared tea with more ceremony than seemed necessary. Asia studied homework that was probably too advanced for someone who'd never attended proper school.
Rias sat at her desk, handling paperwork that came with being a King.
And I read. Combat theory. Tactical analysis. The dry, practical knowledge of how supernatural beings waged war.
Normal. This was normal now.
The thought should have been absurd. Devils and angels and a voice in my head that bargained for memories. Homework and training and found family.
But sitting here, surrounded by people who'd bled for me, people I'd bled for, it felt... right.
Akeno approached with a cup.
"Tea," she announced. "Rias's favorite blend."
I took it without thinking. Raised it to my lips. Paused.
The temperature was exactly right. Not too hot, not cool. The precise warmth Rias preferred.
No sugar. No additions. Plain, pure, exactly the way she drank it.
I stared at the cup.
When did I start drinking tea like this?
I'd never liked tea plain before. Always added honey or sugar or something to cut the bitterness. But this tasted right. Natural. Like I'd always taken it this way.
Echo. The word surfaced without the Fragment's prompting.
I dismissed the thought. Coincidence. I was just adapting to local customs. Cultural integration. Nothing sinister.
The Fragment hummed but said nothing.
Later, when the others had drifted off and the building grew quiet, I sat by the window and watched the stars.
Devils. Angels. Sacred Gears and power levels and an ancient voice that traded memories for abilities.
My life now.
Mom would have laughed. She'd always said I needed more excitement. More purpose. More reasons to get out of bed in the morning.
Be careful what you wish for, I thought.
The Fragment stirred.
"You're adapting faster than expected. Most hosts require weeks to reach baseline functionality. You're approaching competence in days."
Is that a compliment?
"An observation. Compliments serve no tactical purpose."
You're terrible at this.
"At what?"
Being supportive.
"I am what I am. Support is not among my functions." A pause, almost contemplative. "But you have others for that. The peerage. The King. Even the healing girl. You've built connections quickly."
Found family, I thought again.
"Yes. A strange concept. But potentially useful."
I laughed. Quiet, tired, genuine.
Normal. This was normal now.
Devils, angels, a voice in my head, and homework.
It should have been terrifying.
Instead, it felt almost like home.
The Fragment noted my Echo level. 12%. Safe. For now.
Plenty of room to grow.
Plenty of room to lose myself.
But that was a problem for tomorrow.
Tonight, I had tea that tasted right and stars that looked almost familiar and the slow, steady realization that I might actually survive this strange new life.
Almost genuine, I thought. Almost.
But almost was enough.
For now.