"Where the heck is this place!!"
The thought screamed through Kawahara Sirius's mind, a raw, disoriented cry as he was abruptly transported.
One moment, he was... somewhere familiar, though the details were already slipping like sand through his fingers.
The next, he was here.
Here, was a classroom.
Not his classroom.
The desks were a slightly different shade of beige, the fluorescent lights hummed with an unfamiliar buzz, and every single face staring back at him was a stranger.
He blinked, trying to clear the fog from his brain, but the faces remained alien, some curious, some annoyed, some openly sneering.
"Geh, the hell this guy's case," a whisper drifted from a boy with spiky hair two rows ahead.
"Ain't he the one who is always sleeping?" another chimed in, barely bothering to lower his voice.
"Did he have a nightmare or something?" a girl giggled, her hand covering her mouth.
The murmurs were a low, irritating hum, like a swarm of flies. Sirius felt a flush creep up his neck. He had no idea what was happening.
Then, a voice, sharp and laced with pure, unadulterated fury, cut through the haze.
"Oi!! Kawahara Sirius, heck your case! If you have the guts to sleep and scream in my class, you better be able to answer the equation on the board!!"
Sirius flinched.
Kawahara Sirius?
That name felt… both foreign and intimately familiar.
He slowly turned his head towards the blackboard, his eyes struggling to focus.
It wasn't just an equation; it was a sprawling mess of complex mathematical symbols and Greek letters that looked like an alien language.
Eh, equation? he thought, his mind blank.
He genuinely did not know.
His silence only seemed to fuel the teacher's rage.
"You insolent brat! Fine, meet me after class! You're getting a reprimand!"
More snickers erupted from his classmates. He could feel their eyes on him, judgmental and dismissive.
"Look at him, doesn't even know basic algebra," someone muttered.
"His face is wasted on a person like him," a girl's voice, surprisingly sharp, cut through the air, her tone laced with a mix of disdain and pity.
The bell, a merciful clang, finally rang, signaling the end of the period.
Sirius, feeling like a ghost in his own body, stumbled out of the classroom and found himself drawn towards the nearest bathroom.
He needed to see himself.
He needed to understand.
He splashed cold water on his face, then looked up into the mirror.
A stranger stared back.
An undeniably handsome face, framed by soft, silver hair that fell just above piercing blue eyes. It wasn't his face.
Not the one he remembered, anyway.
"Is this me?" he whispered, touching the unfamiliar cheekbones, tracing the line of the jaw.
The reflection moved with him, a perfect, unsettling mimicry.
Then, the memories hit him.
Not a gentle stream, but a chaotic torrent, his past self's life merging violently with the life of Kawahara Sirius. He was currently a first-year student.
An orphan.
A transfer student from England, which explained the slightly awkward Japanese.
This 'new' life, before the transmigration, had been one of quiet solitude, his gloomy and unapproachable demeanor likely a shield forged from his orphan upbringing.
He had transferred to Japan for an inheritance, a detail that now felt utterly insignificant.
And the school. The name echoed in his newly merged mind: Kuoh Academy.
His breath hitched. Kuoh Academy.
The name, once just a fictional setting, now roared with terrifying recognition.
He dashed out of the bathroom, ignoring the startled glances of students, and ran towards the back of the school, a place he knew from countless hours of consuming pop culture.
And there it was.
The familiar back entrance.
And the chatter.
He could hear the distinct, boisterous voices of three students.
One was unmistakable.
"Issei! Stop peeking!"
It was Hyoudou Issei.
And at the same time, a flash of crimson hair caught his eye in a window above.
A girl, impossibly beautiful, with a regal air even from a distance.
Rias Gremory. It was her.
Sirius felt a strange mix of awe and pure, unadulterated terror.
He was currently transmigrated into the world of High School DxD.
As a normal human.
"Shit,"
Sirius muttered, the word a desperate, choked sound.
His handsome, silver-haired face contorted in a grimace.
He cursed being reincarnated here, in this world filled with gods, angels, and demons.
And in Kuoh, a place that, despite being protected and the territory of the Gremory family, still saw devils killing humans as a rampart, horrifying reality.
He was just a normal human.
A potential target.
*************
The school bell rang again, signaling the end of classes.
Students began to stream out, their excited chatter filling the air.
This was his cue. Sirius didn't waste another second.
He needed to get somewhere safe, and fast.
Using the fragmented memories of his transmigration, he dashed from the school grounds, navigating the streets with an urgency born of pure terror.
He knew, from countless hours immersed in DxD lore, that the real danger started after sundown, when stray devils and other supernatural predators came out to hunt unsuspecting humans.
He had to be home before dark.
He moved through the bustling Japanese streets, his new body instinctively recalling the turns and shortcuts.
The memory-induced headache still throbbed, but the overwhelming sense of dread pushed him forward.
Finally, after a frantic, hurried walk, he arrived at his destination.
"At least the house is decent," he murmured, his eyes widening slightly.
Before him stood a large, elegant Western-style mansion.
It was exactly as the memories had indicated—a substantial inheritance from his parents.
He pushed open the heavy front door, stepping into a grand foyer.
The interior was spacious, tastefully decorated, and spoke of old money.
Sirius took a moment to look around, rechecking everything, confirming the memories that suggested his current self was indeed quite wealthy.
On a prominent display in the living room, he saw a framed photograph.
It showed three people: a tall, foreign-looking man with silver hair, strikingly similar to his own new appearance, who was clearly his father.
Beside him stood a woman, a vision of traditional Japanese beauty, a true Yamato Nadeshiko, undoubtedly his mother.
In the middle, a younger version of himself, smiling innocently.
A family.
His current family, now.
Following the blueprint of the fragmented memories, Sirius made his way to his new bedroom.
He pushed open the door, stepped inside, and then froze.
Hanging from the ceiling, ominously still, was a thick, coiled rope.
A noose.
His breath hitched.
The air in the room suddenly felt impossibly heavy.
Did this current me really tried to kill himself? Sirius thought, a wave of awkward horror washing over him.
It was a stark, brutal reminder of the previous Sirius's torment.
His gaze shifted to the side of the bed.
There, neatly placed, was a leather-bound diary.
It looked like his.
Due to his memories still being foggy and not fully merged, he felt an uncomfortable urge to understand more.
He picked it up, flipping through the pages.
The contents spoke of bullying, immense pressure from a demanding extended family regarding the inheritance, and, most prominently, the crushing grief and despair following the death of his parents.
"This is some dark shit," he murmured, the words barely escaping his throat.
A cold, hard resolve settled over him.
He had taken over this life.
The previous Sirius's suffering was a tragedy, but his own priority now was to extend this life, not end it.
He carefully closed the diary, finding a hidden drawer to tuck it away.
Before he left the room, he paused, offering a silent, awkward prayer for the soul who had occupied this body before him.
He was a survivor, and in this terrifying new world, he had to be.